by O. J. Lovaz
“Yes, maybe you’re right,” her father replied, his gaze set on the spot under a dense sycamore tree where a blue car was partially concealed by his Mercedes. “Can’t wait to see them together, mother and daughter reunited at last.”
Lydia broke the awkward silence that followed. “Yes, we all do.”
Victor looked at Lydia, his head slightly slanted, a barely perceptible smirk on his face, as if he found her curious. Meanwhile, Grandma Rose had stopped rocking her chair, the cadenced creaking sound now absent, like a ticking clock abruptly halted. Mark looked uncomfortable, as did his wife. The kid looked dumb, still, unplugged. Anna felt her hand squeezed a bit tighter by Michael’s.
“Well,” said Victor, his gaze skipping Grandma Rose altogether and finding Mark, “I’m sure we’ll be celebrating shortly. What an occasion.” Anna recognized this voice, this facade—it was her father’s public persona. Charming, spotless, synthetic.
Before long, Victor took Mark and family inside the house. A few minutes later, they came back out and immediately bumped into Frank and Sarah, who seemingly had been taking a stroll through the grounds. Another set of uncomfortable, stiff greetings—Frank loathed Mark even more intensely than Anna did. His face appeared taut, unyielding, like a stone dam holding back a rising tide of turbulent waters.
Then all were gathered together, at least in the strictly physical sense. On closer inspection, three groups—perhaps Michael would even call them factions—now shared the front porch. The Goddard establishment stood like gatekeepers by the front door. Their corner, defended by Grandma Rose’s mere presence—what would Michael call them? Anna looked at him now; leaned in and gave him a peck on the lips. The silent majority? Perhaps. On the far corner stood Frank and Sarah, a balanced equation, staying on the sidelines, avoiding collisions.
That was the state of affairs when Marlene came back with Diane. Their faces reflected that the much-expected reconciliation had been realized. Lydia was the first to reach Diane at the bottom of the steps. Her heartfelt hugs and kisses were followed by a surprisingly warm welcome by Victor. He took her hands and spoke kind words to her—Anna couldn’t hear them, but Diane’s bashful smile was evidence enough.
After that Diane went straight to Grandma Rose, hugged her long and hard. She then turned to Anna. “Hey, cuz. Michael.”
“Hi, Diane,” said Michael.
“Hey!” Anna said, hugged her, and added, “I take it all is good with your mom?”
“Everything’s good.” She smiled, eyes sparkling.
Frank and Sarah came over. More hugs, kisses on cheeks.
Frank stole a glance at Anna—no words needed. Soon, they’d begin. A nagging feeling ate at her, though. Should she ask Frank to stop this thing? Her mother was starting to open up to her, so maybe there was another way. But Frank wouldn’t stop now; that much, she knew. And he was right, they had to know the truth. Diane too needed to know.
Eventually, everyone started to collect around the picnic table, which was lined up with the various treats that Lydia had prepared for them. Small groups formed and split up as everyone went around seeking conversation with whoever they had not yet talked to. After a while, everyone had sat down in more permanent groupings around the table.
It was 6:28 when Anna and Diane got the first message from Frank—“Great view from Eagle’s Nest. Initiating.” They had figured that Frank could be out of sight for, at the most, ten minutes, before Sarah would begin asking about his whereabouts. At the moment, she was at the far end of the table, laughing at something Grandma Rose had said. Nearby, but standing off to the side, were Lydia, Marlene, and Diane.
Anna stole a glance at the windows but couldn’t spot Frank. That was good news. She darted a quick look at her cousin, and their keen gazes met fleetingly. Michael had just come back with two beers. They were standing about six feet away from the near end of the table, where her father was dazzling Mark and Jackie with his stories. The kid was nowhere to be seen. He was probably inside the house playing with his video game.
While Michael whispered to her a witty remark about Mark, Anna noticed that Diane had succeeded in getting Marlene and her mother to sit at the table with Grandma Rose and Sarah, who seemed to be getting all of their attention. Now, she needed to get closer to her father, at the right angle, without raising suspicions. Only then could Frank initiate their attempt to steal the pass code to their father’s phone.
“Let’s get some meatballs,” said Anna and dragged Michael toward the table. The cocktail meatballs were just to the left of where her father was seating—his phone rested face up on the table. She smiled politely at him and his audience before grabbing four meatballs stuck on toothpicks. She gave two of them to Michael and stepped away, gesturing Michael to come along.
“Do you want to sit down?” he asked quite naturally and, to her dismay, loud enough that her father might have heard him. She needed to position herself behind her father, at an advantageous angle, far enough to avoid detection but close enough to see his phone screen at the right moment. If her father turned around now and asked her to join them, the plan would be ruined. Sitting beside him, she would be neutralized.
Luckily, that didn’t happen. Michael read the angst on Anna’s face and quietly backed away. “Sorry, I should have guessed that you didn’t want to sit next to your father after what happened earlier,” he said.
“It’s fine. I can’t expect you to read my mind all the time. Great meatballs, huh?” She could breathe easier now, but that had been a close call.
She was in a great spot now. Frank couldn’t ask for a better moment, and indeed, right then came a message from him, “Be ready. Incoming message for Dad in next 30 seconds.”
“Where’s Frank?” Michael asked. He lowered his voice almost to a whisper when he added, “I haven’t seen him in a while, and Sarah is here. Was that him texting you just now?”
Anna knew Michael was on to them. He was too smart and perceptive; and she didn’t want to lie to him anymore. He deserved better from her.
“Come with me. I need to tell you something.” Anna grabbed Michael’s hand and started for the bench under the big oak tree, where in her dream she had reunited with Bo. She looked up at the window where she assumed Frank was looking down at her. Seconds later, she texted, “Do not abort. Give me a moment. Diane, keep Sarah talking.”
They reached the bench. Nobody around. Anna asked him to sit down next to her. Time to confess.
“What I’m going to tell you now may or may not shock you, now that you’ve met my father. I’m just going to come out with it. Frank and I have come to think that, quite possibly, our father had an affair. And…” Her voice cracked up. The shame was too great.
“And,” Michael interrupted her, “you believe that affair was with Lydia’s own sister, your aunt Marlene. She was the girl from the picture, wasn’t she?”
Anna felt her face flushed. “Goodness, how long have you known?”
“It all came together today, really. When I saw Marlene, I recognized her. Same eyes, same smile.”
“I’m embarrassed on so many levels, Michael. I just—”
Michael cupped her cheek gently. “Don’t be. You have no reason to be embarrassed.”
“I’m sorry I kept you in the dark about all this. It’s just such nasty stuff.”
“Stop it. I don’t care. I’m crazy about you, girl.” Michael kissed her before she could answer that, but he already knew she was crazy about him too.
She dizzily pulled back from their kiss. “Listen, I need to go back there. We have a plan to find out the truth, for once and for all, but now is the only chance we’ll have. It’s all in the text messages between my father and Aunt Marlene.”
“Is it worth the risk?” Michael asked with a note of genuine concern. He must have really got to know her father.
“I hope so. If we can prove it, I know it would be the final straw, and Mom would finally leave him. She has to!”
He held he
r hands. “Well, count me in then. How can I help?”
“Why would you want to get involved in this?”
“Because it’s important for you.”
“You’re something else, you know that?” Anna leaned over and kissed him again. “Now, I don’t want you taking any big risks, but perhaps, at the right time, you could create a little distraction for Mark and Jackie. I’m going to need their eyes off of me. Come on, I’ll explain while we walk back there.” She texted, “We are back on. Michael knows.”
A text from Diane warned, “Sarah just asked about Frank.”
Frank replied, “I’m texting Sarah. Michael knows? Anyway, let’s do this now.”
Anna hastened to give Michael a condensed version of their plan and tactics. First, to steal the pass codes, they would put two sets of eyes on each phone. Frank, from his vantage point, assisted by binoculars, would attempt to spot the pass codes. However, Anna and Diane would simultaneously try to do the same at close range to ensure the outcome. The key was to know exactly when Victor and Marlene would pick up their phones and enter their pass codes, which Frank would attempt to trigger by sending precisely coordinated text messages to each of them at specified times.
If successful, then they would need to get either Marlene or Victor, through a diversion, to leave their phone unattended on the table, long enough for one of them to grab it, find and take a snapshot of the text messages—assuming they were there—and return the phone, unseen by anyone.
As soon as Anna and Michael were back in position, about three feet behind Victor, Frank’s next message came through. “Here we go. Incoming message for Dad. Eyes on target.” The quasi-military language was efficient, but Anna suspected that Frank was having a little too much fun with his role as commander of their make-believe rebel army. About two minutes went by without Victor reaching for his phone, which no longer sat on the table.
“Second attempt. Eyes on target.” Shortly after Anna saw Frank’s new message, her father reached into his pocket and took out his phone. It was white, like her own. He made four lightning-quick taps on the lock screen, corresponding to the four digits of his pass code. From where she stood, Anna could only see where his finger had last landed, either at four or seven—she couldn’t be sure which one.
Her father turned around with a malicious smile on his face. “Hey, Anna, when did your brother get so mushy? He just asked me if he could have his old electronic keyboard. I mean, of course he can take that old piece of crap, but doesn’t he have a nice piano now?”
“He does. A very nice one.” Anna thought she’d stutter. Her throat felt tight, her mouth dry. She’d better try to relax.
“I guess he’s up there in his old bedroom, taking a trip on memory lane, huh?”
“Yes, why wouldn’t he? So many lovely memories here, everywhere I look.”
Her father’s lips twisted into a bizarre smirk. “Yeah, yeah. Maybe he’ll try on his old Batman costume too.” Mark laughed raucously. No one was laughing at the other end of the table. Sarah seemed puzzled.
Frank’s latest message came through, “Only got three of the four digits. 8-6-9, missed the last one.”
Anna sent a reply, “Last one was either 4 or 7.”
“Are you sure???” Diane replied. Anna darted a glance at her. She seemed anxious.
“4 or 7, I’m sure. Frank, your cover is almost blown. Dad told everyone, Sarah included, that you texted him from your old bedroom.”
Another message from Frank, “Incoming message for Aunt Marlene. Diane, eyes on target.” Only a few seconds later, Marlene picked up her phone from the table and swiped her thumb across the screen. She looked momentarily confused, or perhaps annoyed, but quickly put the phone back on the table and kept listening to Grandma Rose.
“Can you believe that? No pass code!” texted Frank.
Anna replied, “That was easy. Come down and take Sarah for a walk or something. Dad made things a little weird here. She’ll have questions. You better have answers.”
“Copy that. Heading down. Buckle up, ladies. Now comes the real challenge.”
CHAPTER XIV
Tinges of crimson and orange had begun to color the azure-blue sky by the time Frank and Sarah returned from a long walk. The prolonged hiatus gave Anna plenty of time to brood over how she was now keeping a dangerous secret from Frank. Her mind grew restless.
What if her mother stayed there tonight and he hurt her? What if he—God, no!
Anna winced at the thought, tried to will it away but the shadows wouldn’t retreat, her nightmare hiding behind every creaky old tree, ready to jump at her, the premonition she chose to ignore, back for more, back to get her.
Small feet, chasing after Bo. Come, boy! What have you got there? Flowers. A bed of flowers. Mom, dead!
Fuck! She snapped out of her vision, gasping. Did she gasp? Michael stood beside her—Anna pulled him closer and propped her chin on his shoulder.
She could tell Frank everything. The two of them could drag their mother out of the house. But who knew what Frank might do if he learned right then and there that his father had already twice hit his mother? He could do anything, blinded by rage. The risk was too great.
Something was eating at Diane. She’d barely spoken in a while and kept darting uneasy glances at her. It wasn’t hard to empathize with her cousin. She had just regained her mother and now, perhaps, stood to lose her again. Could she find it in her heart to forgive her mother’s sin against her own blood? Would she deem it frailty and not wickedness? Such somber questions, without a doubt, were enough to cast a shadow on the bravest of faces.
It was 7:35 when Lydia brought over her homemade lasagna. The sight of the glorious blend of cheeses that had so many times before made Anna salivate with anticipation now positively turned her stomach. By design, she’d sat next to her father.
Michael had taken the seat across from her and next to Mark, who had lined up a row of four empty beer bottles and was working on his fifth—the effects of alcohol were starting to show on his face, giving it an even more loathsome appearance. His kid, forced to sit between him and Jackie, had his face buried in a video game and headphones stuck in his ears.
Grandma Rose and the two sisters were sitting as before. Frank and Sarah, being the last to arrive at the table, ended up across from each other, such that Frank sat next to Michael and Sarah between Anna and Diane.
Sarah leaned over and whispered to Anna, “Frank told me about your little operation. For the record, I think you guys are crazy. I like it, though. Way to grab the bull by the horns.” Anna smiled naturally and kept her mouth shut. This was no time to be reckless. Could Frank really have told her everything?
A sharp clinking sound startled Anna. She turned to see her father tapping his glass with a knife. “I want to thank each of you for coming here today. This has been a real treat for us,” he said affectedly, his piercing blue eyes making a stop at every face around him. “And, of course, I want to thank Lydia for preparing this extraordinary dinner for us—thank you, darling.” Victor’s expertly delivered words were followed by a cacophony of gratitude and praises for the cook. Anna couldn’t remember a single time he thanked her mother for a meal in the privacy of their dinner table.
Four flood lights turned on around 7:45. The sun had just set, and a quarter moon was now visible in a quickly darkening, deep-blue sky. Chatter around the table somewhat died down for the next five or ten minutes, as everyone gobbled up Lydia’s acclaimed lasagna. Anna got a small piece, butchered it, and smeared sauce all over her plate, concealing the fact that she had barely tasted it. All she could think about was when and how to get her father’s phone, which was now on the table, inches away from her right hand.
Her dad was, at the moment, seemingly engrossed in some dumb story Jackie was telling. If she were to grab his phone and walk away, she might go unnoticed for fifteen or twenty seconds. She could walk the first ten feet and then run away. She could run and search for the messages s
imultaneously. But what if she tripped and fell? What if the pass code was wrong? Then he’d be alerted, and there wouldn’t be a second chance, not to mention that she’d have to explain her strange behavior.
She took out her phone and placed it on the table, a mere six or seven inches away from her father’s. It was white like his; not the same phone, but same brand—his was an older, slightly smaller, and bulkier model. An accidental swap—that could work. She glanced over at Frank. They made eye contact, but by that, she probably accomplished nothing more than communicating a vague sense of urgency. She texted him, “Dad’s phone looks like mine. Attempt a swap?” He read the message, looked at her, and gave her a barely perceptible nod.
Anna gently nudged her phone another inch closer to her father’s. He was laughing. In another moment, Frank whispered something to Michael, who now stood up and winked at her. He walked past Mark and suddenly turned around. “Oh, hey, I’m going to grab a beer. Any of you want me to bring you something?” It was the distraction she needed.
It all seemed to happen in the same single instant. Mark thanked Michael more effusively than warranted. Sure, he’d have another beer. Jackie said something else. It was all a blur. Anna had her hand on her phone now, initiating a circular motion to complete the swap. She felt all tensed up, her heart pounding like the hooves of a racehorse on the final stretch. Victor’s phone chimed and down came his hand and grabbed the phone, nearly touching her hand. A scream had wanted to come out of her chest; she barely managed to stop it at the top of her throat. It had been a very close call. And a failure.
Victor appeared to be texting, then stood up. “Excuse me,” he said and walked away. Michael crossed paths with him at the steps. He darted confused glances at Frank and Anna. Everything appeared to be coming apart. Now, Marlene also left the table. It appeared as though she’d received a phone call and needed to take it in private. Awfully suspicious, though. She walked in the direction of the big oak tree under which there was a bench, then made a turn, and disappeared behind the house.
